Saturday, June 30, 2012

- That Catwoman cover reminds me of that one time when all those comic artists didn’t know how to draw.

- That cover is especially heinous because Guilem March draws
pornography on the side, which requires a certain understanding of
proportionality and the ability to draw an attractively posed female, none of which were on display on that cover.

- Secret Invasion is the worst event comic of all time; it’s
baffling that it ever saw print. There is literally a scene in the
first issue where Ares says that the Skrulls in the Savage Lands are
meant as a distraction and they should leave. Four issues later, and
they finally say fuck it and leave to go punch the space armada away. I just don't get it.

- Judd Winick is a sexist ass clown who’s last relevant work died with Bill Clinton’s hollow promise to end AIDS.

- Top three comics of the year (so far): Incinerator, Lincoln Washington, Prophet. All three are perfect representations of their authors artistic vision and redefine their respective genres while still existing within there confines.

- Superman: Truth Justice and the American Way (along with
Alex Ross’s body of work) illustrates the major problem with fanboy
critiques; the book simply dismisses and mocks the idea of The Authority without properly countering it intellectually or showing why its way is better. All Star Superman was a twelve issue rebuke, Superman #775
was twenty two pages of incessant whining. It's a creative and
ideological failures, instead of showing why their way is better, they
recap past moments of “glory” and expect nostalgia to win the day.
Nostalgia is a bitch though, and not to be relied on.

- Prometheus represents the first major conflict of film’s
auteur theory (director centered) and television’s show runner/writer.
Aaron Sorkin may have been the first to cross over, but he’s
white-bread. Inoffensive. Lost resulted in a giant bag of
pissed off snakes when it ended, so what you get is one of the biggest
directors of all time, returning to one of the biggest sci-fi
franchises,written by the screenwriter of one of the biggest shows of
all time, and no one knows who to assign credit and blame to. Five years
ago, no one would have mentioned the writer (except in the case of
Charlie Kaufman), but with the progression of TV and its spillover, in
this case, the writer is taking center stage in the discussion.

- Ryan Sands was interviewed about his and Michael Deforge’s porn anthology Thickness, whose third and final issue is debuting at CAKE this week, on Inkstuds. The first two issues of Thickness
were phenomenal, particularly the 2nd issue which featured the best
short story of the year in DeForge’s College Girls By Night along with a
stunning Angie Wang short. To say i'm excited for the third issue may be an understatment.

- “Ether” is the hardest dis’ track ever recorded (Hit ‘em Up is #2)

- This week in Amazon orders: Joe Sacco’s Journalism and Josh Simmons The Furry Trap. There may be a theme to be found, but I’m just not sure what it is.

- Watched Lost Boys for the first time. What a goddamn weird ass movie.

- Just started reading Lunar Park after finishing Imperial Bedroom
last week. I’ve been on a big Bret Easton Ellis kick for the past two
months, following Chad Nevett and Joey Allusio’s recommendations. Imperial Bedroom was billed as a sequel to Less Than Zero,
but it’s more so a culmination of Ellis’s entire body of work,
interweaving themes and techniques from his previous novels into one single thought.

- One of the best Horror documentaries ever made is Never Sleep Again, a 4 hour long retrospective of the Nightmare on Elm Street
franchise. It’s fascinating both if you’re a fan of the franchise or
simply interested in how a indie horror film about dreams captured the
cultural zeitgeist.

- The Comics Journal reprinted an old Alan Moore interview just in time for the release of Scab: The Book.

- Morrison was honored by the queen. Between that, Rags Morales, and Matt Seneca’s All Star Superman review, dude’s had a tough year.

- Judd Apatow’s involvement in Girls is a perfect thematic progression in the context of his television work. Freaks and Geeks, Undeclared and now Girls center around the struggle to find ones identity between major life changes (high school, college, and post-college) and the changes that entails.

- I remember growing up and Hellraiser being one of the few
movies my parents barred me from watching. I re-watched it a few days
ago and can see why, although I’m fairly certain they thought it was
just too scary for a twelve year old, and not because the film is a
dissection of fetishism and power play. The films popularity is really
unsettling.

- I’d like to thank everyone for spoiling League of Extraordinary Gentleman: Centuries 2009 for me two weeks before its release. Really appreciate that.

- If the new Aesop Rock single is anything to go by, his new album is going to be ridiculous.

- I tend to dump title ideas in a word document and use them when
applicable. Here is one that won’t be applicable for a while: “I just
want to be inside you, like up in your vagina with my dick. Exploring
that moist cavern like Captain Nemo and The Nautilus. And then, after
due diligence (like 3 minutes?) inseminating your pussy with my sea-men.
AKA DON’T STOP BELIEVING “

- I don't think my editors ever read my submissions. It would explain a lot. (Although this "though" being cut out of the original post may contradict this point)

Friday, June 15, 2012

a.k.a. “No arrows. These words will have to do.”originally published over at Spandexless
written by two guys who have little else to do.

Alec Berry: I forget why we decided to do this, but
here we are … preparing to discuss the legend himself, Rob Liefeld, and
the legacy-drenched comic book that is Youngblood #1. I would be lying if I said I was not interested in having this conversation.
Of course, it is a big year for Liefeld what with the relaunch of
Extreme Studios and his involvement with DC Comics, so it seems
appropriate to state Liefeld as a figment of the current zeitgeist.
That’s probably why we’re here.

And we need an excuse to talk about Liefeld.

Honestly, I like the guy, and in some sense I feel we’re all way past
the days of stunted conversation based solely on “hating” him. Few of
those claims possessed any evidence to begin with. People just needed a
scapegoat for the trash of 1990s comic books that they took it out on
the guy who established one of the decades key aesthetics rather than
the numerous imitators who wrung it dry and cannibalized the thing.
Liefeld may not produce deep or even always technically efficient
comics, but the one thing he has up on a lot of creators is his
uncontainable energy, passion and overall voice. That stuff overpowers
the mechanical flaws, for me, and while all the energy and love only
produces over the top action, I feel that’s wildly appropriate,
especially for superhero comics.
A guy like Liefeld humbles the medium, drawing us back from the ever
present desire to legitimize what’s created and what’s read; the
experience reminds a reader of the childlike wonderment which can be
associated with the artform as well as the slightly exploitative element
associated with the superhero genre.

And the best part … all of Liefeld’s work is genuine. He’s a genuine
motherfucker making the comic books he wants to make while knowing
exactly what it is he’s making. He’s not kidding you like a Matt
Fraction Mighty Thor pitch which tries to get religious or is
made out to be the next great work in modern comics. If Liefeld tells
you’re getting a comic about Youngblood fighting terrorists, that’s
exactly what you’ll get, no unnecessary varnish applied throughout.
Yet, while I say his work aims low and is low, I do hold this odd
opinion that Liefeld’s visual style sort of reworks Kirby’s, in a sense.
Kirby influenced super hero cartooning because of the language he
created. Liefeld sort of did something similar, I think, but more in
terms of an aesthetic and maybe tone. So, yeah, maybe there’s a argument
for Liefeld’s higher importance. If you want to go there.
Could I only read Rob Liefeld comics? No. But as part of a varied
industry, Liefeld has a place. And that’s without mentioning Image and
the historical component you could place on his person.
So, Shawn, let’s get into this and discuss this somewhat larger than life personality and creator.
Where we going?

Shawn Starr: I’m fairly certain I broached the
subject during a drunken email at 2 A.M, which is when all my great
ideas occur. I’m kind of like Hemingway in that sense. I also like to
take credit for other people’s ideas, so I’m kind of like Stan Lee too.
Why would anyone want to discuss Rob Liefeld’s Youngblood, especially after everyone’s told us how inept a creator he is? Simple, Liefeld is one of comics most interesting figures, and Youngblood is one of his most important works.

Also most of those criticisms (as you pointed out) are dubious.
Liefeld was selling 1 million copies of X-Force a month at the age of twenty-two. To put that in perspective, I’m twenty-two and do not sell 1 million copies of X-Force
each month. In addition to simply selling comics by the metric ton,
Liefeld single handedly defined a decade of comic art, and was a
founding member of Image Comics, which, depending on who you ask
(*cough* Gary Groth*cough*) represents one of the biggest leaps forward
in comic publishing since the inception of the Direct Market.

And, while I don’t subscribe to the quantity equals quality idea, that’s a career which requires inspection.

As you noted, Liefeld has experienced a resurgence of late, with the
recent relaunch of Extreme Studios and his work on several DC relaunch
titles. Liefeld has at least one book out each week (he’s currently
overseeing the production of nine books total) which is more than many
small publishers. But, Liefeld wouldn’t be the topic of our discussion
today just because he produces nine books a month. I mean IDW puts out
at least that many and who cares about them.

There’s something else to Liefeld.

What makes Liefeld, well, Liefeld is his style. When you look at one
of his pages or creations it just screams Liefeld, he imbues everything
he touches with his essence. If Cable wasn’t weighed down by 500 pounds
of guns and ammo, then he wouldn’t be Cable. And that’s Liefeld.
Everything he creates is extreme, an action movie on every page, and not
just a “failed movie pitch” that comics have recently become the
repository for, a genuine action movie. Schwarzenegger in his heyday
shit. Which, in an industry of endless possibilities, is a sight for
sore eyes.
Liefeld is one of two direct heirs to Kirby, the other being
art-comix god Gary Panter. Both creators filtered the essence of Kirby
through their own distinct visions, creating dramatically different
bodies of work, but always keeping Kirby’s kinetic energy in mind.

Panter filtered Kirby through a punk rock attitude and high art
sensibility to create the definitive style of the art-comix movement. He
reduced Kirby’s line work to a single jagged line, yet maintained all
of the original’s energy. Panter is distilled Kirby. He was even able to
capture Kirby’s sense of epic scale (Fourth World), with Jimbo (Panter’s most famous creation) embarking on a tour through Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy. Panter took Jimbo biblical, the closest thing he could do to capture Kirby’s cosmic ideals.

Liefeld, in stark contrast, took Kirby’s line work and added onto it
(a reverse Vince Colletta of sorts) filtering it through Manga
sensibilities and supercharging each page. If Panter was a reductionist,
Liefeld was an expansionist. Throwing lines on top of lines, cross
hatching each image like a schizophrenic who was about to discover the
inner workings of the universe if only he could just ink one more line.
And then throwing on some Manga infused speed lines to drive the point
home.
His pages are a truly awesome experience.

Liefeld said (in a wonderful interview with Jim Rugg)
that he never allowed an inker to touch his faces, because they could
never capture that pure “Liefeld-ian” look. He also gave every page one
final pass. Another round of rendering. Cross hatching to the nth
degree. And that’s where the image becomes a Liefeld image. An entire
decade’s worth of artists tried to ape his style, Multi-Media
Conglomerates created house styles around him, and yet, no one can draw
like Liefeld. Just like no one can draw like Kirby.

If Jaime Hernandez has distilled his art to a single line, Rob Liefeld has distilled his to a thousand.
You say Liefeld’s work plays to the lowest common denominator (in
much kinder words), which in some respects is true. There’s no grand
theory of life to be found in Youngblood. The first issue has
some basal levels of satire, however strained, but it’s not particularly
refined or biting. It’s definitely not Watchmen, but then
again it was never trying to be. He just wanted to make fun comics,
which is something few creators even attempt today. You call it genuine,
I call it true to itself. It’s all the same.
What I see as Liefeld’s lasting legacy (besides his involvement with
creator rights and Image) is his effect on the current generation of
creators. While the initial crop of art-comix creators grew up on Crumb
and later Panter, this new generation grew up on Liefeld and Image
Comics. It may only be a fleeting moment, but for the next few years his
importance is going to become increasingly evident, as the new vanguard
of creators move away from the old and begin to reinterpret their
childhood influences. Which, by and large, means Rob Liefeld, the
defining artists of the 90’s.

The most important art-comix movement since RAW, the Fort Thunder
Collective, were the first to begin this distancing from the past. The
two most prominent members CF whose angelic line work was so different
from what had come before that it redefined the look of much of the
genre, and Brian Chippendale who is a self avowed Marvel Fanboy (writing one of the best review sites in comics),
on an initial glance one would think of him as an acolyte of Panter,
but, and I love this quote, he belongs to the 90’s “When I grew up I
didn’t want to draw like Panter, I wanted to be Jim Lee” (this quote is
second hand, from the RUB THE BLOOD
Inkstuds podcast). Together they show a progression in the medium, away
from the old guard and towards something new. To highjack Frank
Santoro’s idea (and Comics Comics), they represent fusionism, taking
from everything to create something new. And Liefeld is a key component
as of late, he defined a decade of art. His influence is impossible to
escape. I mean just look at the creators attached to last years RUB THE BLOOD, and you’ll see a who’s who of art-comix.

And that is not even going into the Extreme Studios relaunch, which has produced one of the best sci-fi comics of the decade (Prophet) along with what will soon be heralded as the most progressive take on a female superhero since Wonder Woman was created (Glory).
Or the lasting popularity and resurgence of his Marvel work. There was a
time (and it still may be) when Deadpool was the most popular character
in comics, and just last year Uncanny X-Force and Deadpool MAX
were two of the most critically praised Big 2 books being published.
None of these titles are by him, but they required him to give them
life.

As an aside, the criticisms of Liefeld are largely unfounded. Sure he
ignores anatomy, but so does Ware, Crumb, and for a more mainstream and
generally excepted example Jim Lee. It’s just that everyone of those
guys is given a pass, it’s their “style”, which is true, but the same
reasons it’s ok for them to ignore anatomy are, for some reason, not
applicable to Liefeld.
Being critiqued for his lack of realism, a feature which his art has
never attempted to capture, is missing the point of Liefeld. His art is
decadent and expansive. It’s telling that this is what the masses of
pseudo-critics jump onto. Realism is largely a constraint on art that
individuals try to pass off as valid criticism against something they
don’t understand. Kyle Baker summed it up best “in art, as in life,
‘realism’ is for the uncreative.” Of course this is what they latch
onto, because they don’t or can’t understand what it is Liefeld is
doing.

If Liefeld drew like Alex Ross, I could see the validity in this line
of thought, but Liefeld has as much in common with Alex Ross (or Neal
Adams) as Matt Brinkman. His style is an extension of himself, not a
light-boxed photo from the recent Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue, it’s “abstract” and should not be constrained by the idea of realism.

Ok, thats my overlong re-contextualization of Liefeld. I may be
completely wrong and participated in a one man historical whitewashing,
so do you have anything you want to add, or should we begin this review
of Youngblood #1 after our brisk 1,800 word introduction?

AB: That Kyle Baker quote is great.

SS: He posted that on Twitter a couple days ago, and I couldn’t not steal it.

AB: Would you go as far as to say Liefeld is this
generation’s Kirby or do you feel his impact isn’t exactly that wide? I
feel he’s influential, but I wouldn’t exactly claim his influence to be
widespread like Kirby’s. Kirby’s thumb prints are on everything because
of the grammar he developed while Liefeld falls more in the camp of an
attitude rather than a fundamental. He’s kind of optional, but even
then, from the handful of alt comics I’ve touched and the blogs I read,
it does appear that some of Liefeld’s brashness works its way through.

I do find it funny, though, that Liefeld suddenly has received this
reevaluation. Like many influential people before him, hatred was their
initial response. Maybe Liefeld fits that bill, although he was liked,
generally, early on because of his difference to what was available at
the time.
But, yeah, that’s sort of where we’re at with Liefeld: taking this
despised dude and finally finding merit in his work. You could even work
Benjamin Marra into your whole thesis as well because like Marra, Youngblood
#1 is very much a comic book drawn in the back of some kid’s notebook.
It lacks the more obscene elements, but it is still rich with boyhood
fascinations. To steal from Ed Piskor, “the early Image comics are like
guys playing with actions figures, going “boom!” “bam!” “grrrghh!”

To be honest with you, I didn’t read this and concern myself with the
technicalities. I knew going in what it was, so instead, I went in for
the spirit, and I think, with that mindset, Youngblood #1
really pays off. You mention this sense of satire that doesn’t exactly
shape itself into anything, but I kind of feel it does simply through
what the comic is. Youngblood #1, by its quality, does satirize the whole of superhero comics, especially the post-Watchmen mindset of the time, subverting this idea of serious super hero comics to complete ridiculous mish-mash.

The whole flip book approach sort of works to undermine the serious
attitude too, bringing back some of that anthology flavor, like with Tales to Astonish.

SS: I’d describe Liefeld as Kirby-lite. I can’t
think of any other artist in the past twenty years who has had as great
an impact on the medium as Liefeld; he created hundreds of characters
and defined the mediums style for a decade, but Kirby is Kirby.
Liefeld probably comes the closest, but Kirby is such a monumental
and influential figure that no one could ever truly equal him. Tezuka
(Manga), Crumb (Art) and Moebius (Europe) are the only ones who can
match him, and even then they feel lacking. Kirby created the North
American comics industry almost single handedly; romance comics Kirby,
sci-fi comics Kirby super hero comics all Kirby; Liefeld revolutionized
one of those, so there is something to be said of him, but I don’t think
anyone can really be the “Kirby” of a generation. He’s too important.
Maybe you could describe him as the often trotted out “voice of a
generation”, if that doesn’t sound like too shallow a description. I
mean, there’s at least 20 “voices” to each generation nowadays so it
seems like a meaningless term.

So I guess my answer is no, but with the caveat that no one could really be the Kirby of their generation.

It’s also interesting to point out the differences in Liefeld’s
influence. The current “mainstream” comic culture seems to have latched
onto his creations (Deadpool, Cable, X-Force) while the alt-comics scene
has taken his visual aesthetic and attitude. That’s probably because of
the “mainstreams” current incarnation as a Intellectual Property
generator, and alt-comic’s focus on style and singular vision.
You mentioned the name of one of my favorite cartoonists Ben Marra,
who I almost named dropped in my initial response, but decided not to
for some reason. I can’t think of a creator more in tune with pure
Liefeld-ian style out there today. His comics are brash and unforgiving,
everything I love about Liefeld, and then he throws obscenity on top of
it. Scrawlings in a notebook seems to be an apt description for both
creators. There’s a childlike essence that exudes from both them that
stands out from the rest of the industry. Marra is Liefeld brought up on
Gangsta Rap instead of GI-Joes.
Your point on satire makes sense, but I’m not sure if that satire is
intentional or not. Where the Image founders crafting a meta-textual Dr. Strangelove, or simply making a B-Movie. Did Liefeld create Youngblood
as a reaction to Moore’s intellectualism, or a comic where things blew
up. That’s one of those things you need a dig up a brilliant quote to
find out. I have a feeling its perceived satire after the fact, and not a
great mega-critique played out by Image Comics.

AB: Oh, yeah. I don’t feel it’s intentional. As you said, it’s an effect brought up after the fact, but still, it’s an effect.

SS: Yeah, we’re probably just projecting satire onto them. Us kids and our need for irony and satire in everything we find genuine.

The most likely candidate, by Liefeld, is his mega-event Judgement Day. Which title alone sounds like Final Crisis
times ten thousand, but, and here’s the genius of it, it is really just
a three issue meta-commentary on the idea of retconing in the guise of a
courtroom case, written by Alan Moore.

Alan Moore!

The book reads like it was written for anyone but Liefeld, and in his
hands becomes anything but the procedural drama Moore had intended.
Imagine the courtroom scene in From Hell in the hands of Liefeld at his
peak, that’s Judgement Day.

Liefeld has this ability to overpower the writer on every page.
Liefeld renders each figure in such a way as to make their every action a
dramatic moment. Dialogue that’s meant to be subtle becomes laden with
invisible exclamation points in the hands of Liefeld; his cross hatching
seems to spill over onto the dialogue balloons. The best example of
this is his facial rendering (no one inks a Liefeld face except Liefeld
for a reason!) where every expression is contorted until it turns into
an abstraction that can only described as EXTREME! which even Moore
can’t escape.

If Judgement Day isn’t a satire of the idea of comics as
literature, and the ubiquitous mega event, then I’m not sure what it is.
Besides a testament to Liefeld’s power to overwhelm authorial intent.

AB: That’s the Image era in total. Nothing mattered
but the attitude and style, and all other elements either became
obsolete or excused. I just like how Liefeld still performs in such a
way, and in some sense, represents this era entirely by just being.
Liefeld doing a book today is like Gerry Conway doing one. You read it,
and it immediately takes you to a certain time like a novelty item.

But Liefeld, as we’ve mentioned, accomplishes a little more than a Gerry Conway retro comic.
Liefeld makes the visual end front and center, which for comic books
should be a given, but our culture’s so dead set on writers we lack the
necessary attention for the true writing. In some way, I think the Image
guys were some odd first step in making the mainstream audience wake up
and realize the importance of the artwork in comic books. Until then,
plot was really everything for the super hero book. The Image guys
didn’t exactly produce the best quality stuff, but by being so
flamboyant, they made it impossible not to appreciate the illustration
and just forget the plot.

SS: The swagger of youth …

AB: Think about that in context of the a-typical
comic reader. Fanboys brushing off the plot to rave about line work (a
lot of line work) instead. That’s nuts! It’s some twisted sense of an
art comics mentality. I want that world again, but instead, with an even
balance where both visual and script matter equally. If that’s
possible.

A first step, but an important one in many ways, and sadly it seems
with the crash and burn of the 90s, readers and creators buried that
step because supposedly art over story generated the fall.

SS: The 90’s were a time
when the artist took over, but, and I think this is a key point many
critics fail to mention, so were the 60’s. Kirby and Ditko ran Marvel
Comics creatively. Stan Lee was merely a editor who dialogued books.
When artists are in charge it seems to be indicative of an age of ideas
over content. If you look at those era’s you see the creation of
thousands of characters, all still in use today, and stories that exude
creativity. Writers tend to constrain this expansionism. Look at the
past 10 years in mainstream comics and show me a completely original
idea from a writer, or even a creation that’s stuck. You might be able
to squeak Damien past by Morrison, but he’s a derivative character, just
like the Rainbow Patrol over at Green Lantern. I just don’t see that being the same as Kirby creating an entire universe or Liefeld creating the Extreme Studios line.

The problem is that writers have been copying and referencing each
other since the start. Moore may have been a singular voice in the
comics medium (at first), but he was borrowing from a dozen other
writers, it’s just that no one in comics had heard of them. Writing’s a
conservative field really, inbred, while art is all about taking a blank
canvas and turning it into something more. There may be references and
homages but that’s only one panel in a twenty two page pamphlet. It
can’t sustain itself for any prolonged period, unlike writing.

Continuity hounds don’t get into comics to be artists, they’re writers for a reason.

Even the “Age of Awesome” collapsed in on itself around the
mid-2000’s because it lacked artists capable of seeing it through. The
writers of that movement were only able to succeed when they were paired
with the best artists in the industry. Casanova needed (needs) Ba’ and Moon, Bulletproof Coffin needed (needs) Shaky Kane and Immortal Iron Fist
needed David Aja. When you put Fraction on Iron Man with a lesser
artist it all falls apart. Ideas in the hands of a writer can’t sustain
themselves past their initial conception.

AB: While Ba’ and Moon give the book its agility, Casanova
is Matt Fraction. That’s a book about a writer – showing the journey
from wannabe professional to now comics company man, mixed with a sense
of sorting through influences, whether they’re life experiences or pop
culture tidbits. You can’t take Fraction out of Casanova.

You’re correct to a point. Sure, comic book writers need artists to
carry their ideas across the finish line as well as to provide the true
impact of these ideas – the visual – but to suggest it’s a one-sided
issue seems a bit erroneous. Liefeld’s a great example. His artwork
certainly provides the right stylistic punch, but beneath that style,
what is there? A poor story lacking a lot of necessary structure and
layer.
The work needs a writer to give it a sound foundation.

That’s why comic books are most often produced through a team effort.
The writer/artist team makes a lot of sense because where the artist
can ignore constraints the writer applies them, offering a sound balance
to keep a story in order. Stories need order, to a degree. They
function through their structure, most of the time. The artist can
certainly help add a sense of spontaneity, though, as well as help tell
the story and even rewrite a writer’s script to a degree. The artist is
most definitely important, but not every artist can be unleashed on
their own. Liefeld’s sort of an example of that – as well as many other
writer/artists in mainstream comics.

SS: Sure, you need the writer to provide structure.
But I’m not sure if those are the kinds of comics I want to read
anymore. There are maybe four or five writers who can craft a competent
book, and they all reside in the “mainstream”. Artist run every other
genre. There’s probably a reason why every major literary-comic is done
by a single creator. Or why the art-comix movement is run by singular
vision. Michel Fiffe just dropped the best DC comic of the year,
as a self-published, one man operation. If you think putting Adam Glass
on scripting duties would have improved that book…well I question your
judgement.

AB: Singular vision is certainly a preferred
circumstance, and it does seem to work well in art comics where I think
the mindset is more set on making a complete piece rather than a story
installment. But even then, it’s not like there’s one mindset going into
the creative process. The mindset of the writer and the artist are two
separate things, so even when you have one person writing and drawing a
comic, it’s arguable that one person comes from two different places.

Of course, I’ve never made a comic book, so what’s my theory, really? Speculation.
To point out of my personal interest, though, I would agree with you
in your current interest. I’m finding myself more and more attentive to
cartoonists these days versus collaborative teams, and ideally, I
suppose that’s how comics are meant to be. That’s not to say the
writer/artist team up is worthless, though, or that writers can’t push
their ideas out into the world mostly on their own. Look at Morrison.
Quitely certainly adds a lot, but even without Quitely, Morrison still
projects his voice.

One example, but it shows the possibility.

SS: I will backtrack a little and concede that Casanova
is Matt Fraction, but without Ba’ and Moon going all Steranko on that
bitch it would have lost its pop-comics feel. Pop art starts with pop
artists. Fraction set the tone, but Ba’ and Moon perfected the
aesthetic. That may have been that sweet spot you were waiting for, and
it came and went in four years without any mainstream support.
Morrison has a distinct voice (and just to point this out, he did
start out as an artist) and Quitely certainly does bring out the best in
him, but here’s the thing, Morrison has been hammering home his ideas
of hyper-sigils and Superman as god for nearly twenty years in hundreds
of comics, and the only time they really resonate is when Frank Quitely
comes into the fold. Flex Mentallo and All Star Superman are the clearest examples of Morrison’s ideas and both are illustrated by Quitely. Morrison needs Quitely.

But back to Liefeld…

AB: I’ll give you the point on Morrison. But, yes, Liefeld.

With all the praise we’ve given, we do need to be fair and recognize
the faults. Liefeld has certainly influenced some bad. And not even just
copycat artists but really whole publishing approaches. You can either look at Marvel Comics in the mid 90s or just dive into
Liefeld’s own back yard with Extreme Studios. With Extreme, North
American comics took on a whole new sense of factory line assembly, and
Marvel just really took the Image method and completely raped and bled
dry any of the charm associated with it (although, third and fourth wave
Image titles kind of did this too), creating this culture of comic
books dependent on gimmicks above quality (without any of the energy
Liefeld or the other Image guys put into the work).

You could even make a case Liefeld had a big influence on internet
hate culture, being the shining beacon of it he has been. At least in
comic book “discussion.”

Expand on these, Starr. I’m going outside.

SS: Yeah, this part’s inevitable when discussing
Liefeld. For all his swagger and attitude, he certainly has his faults.
Liefeld has this uncanny ability to overcome most of his artistic
weaknesses; he certainly doesn’t care about page to page continuity like
every critic on the internet seems to (unless
the credits don’t read “Artist: Rob Liefeld”). And, like you, I don’t
see most of this as a blasphemous act against comics. The rawness of his
art saves it from most of its technical faults.

AB: Yeah. Oddly, enough, I started reading this
Replacements oral history by Jim Walsh today, and there’s this great
quote from Westerberg about their performance style:

“To like us, you have to try and understand us. You can’t come in and
just let your first impression lead you. Because your first impression
will be a band that doesn’t play real well, is very loud, and might be
drunk. Beneath that is a band that values spirit and excitement more
than musical prowess. To me, that’s rock and roll, and we’re a rock and
roll band.”

That really sums up Liefeld for me, and in a lot of ways, that’s what I want comics to be. Twenty-some pages of spirit.

SS: Yeah, Liefeld is all about spirit over
technical prowess. When his work fails though, is when it starts to
restrain itself. Conservatism is Liefeld’s death knell.Youngblood #1 is split into two separate stories, sixteen pages each, and I think both stories highlight Liefeld’s faults.

“Youngblood: International” (the two teams aren’t distinguished, so
I’m using this name for the non-Shaft lead team, and “Youngblood:
Stateside” for the main team) is pure action; one page of framing in the
post-DKR media lens format followed by fifteen pages of nonstop action.
This segment is the most Liefeldian of the two, which makes it the most
interesting overall. The story itself is fairly straightforward; the
team goes into occupied Israel to take out a Saddam Hussein stand in.
It’s choppy in the dialogue, and the middle bit seems to get away from
Liefeld at a certain point, but the final sequence with Psi-Fire brings
it back. It’s labeled the “1st Explosive Issue” which is a perfect
title. Its Liefeld in all his glory and ruin. Pure artistic expression.

“Youngblood: Stateside” is the weaker of the two artistically, but a
significant step up in a craft perspective. Everything flows, the pacing
is sound and the exposition is a little heavy handed at points but
nothing to complain about. This issue fails, though, where so many
Liefeld projects fail; they are restrained at the very last moment. The
story ends with a splash page showing Youngblood about to stop a gang,
and results in this hard stop that kills the story. So many of Liefeld’s
projects seem to restrain him at the last moment, forcing him to draw
non-action, dialogue heavy, exposition scenes, and then once they get to
the fight, stops dead and calls it a day. It’s not even Liefeld’s fault
most of the time. It is just how comics are written nowadays.

Although the panel where Shaft throws a pen across a mall and knocks a would be assassin of a rail to his death is pure Liefeld.

“No Arrows. This pen will have to do.”

AB: I laughed, gleefully, at that scene, along with the scene of Chapel kicking his one night stand out.

SS: “You gotta give ‘em hope… As Shaft would say ‘it’s good P.R. !’” reads like a line out of Gangsta Rap Posse.

AB: Great moments.

AB: I’m glad you pointed out the pacing of the
Stateside story because I too found it to actually be way better than
anything I would have expected from this comic. I mean, there are
moments when the flow is so on, most comics today could actually take a
lesson from it and improve. Particularly, I’m thinking of the scene in
the headquarters as they receive the mission brief and Shaft ends the
sequence by exclaiming: “Then let’s move it!”

That was some exciting shit, to be perfectly honest.

You’re completely right when you mention the story being cut short,
because it is. Completely. And I really wonder what decision led to such
a choice. Really, reading what was already there, who’s to say without
the abrupt cliffhanger, this comic might have actually received some
love and not gone down as the mistake it historically has. Up until
then, the main story wasn’t exactly on a horrible track. Cheesy dialogue
and situations, certainly, but not exactly bad.

Part two, or “Youngblood: International,” flipflops, like you
mention, into a complete reversal of the plot beat Stateside is. Looking
at the two halves, it really just seems like Liefeld split one script
rather than constructing two complete stories. Blending the best aspects
of both into one story could have really worked. Together, they possess
everything necessary.

But, no, he splits them, and ultimately that’s a fault of trying to
interject too many characters into one book. Liefeld’s concerned with
setting both of these teams up in one issue, and to do so, he chooses a
route that just sticks a knife in the gut of the script. I also think he
was just trying to make this comic book feel packed by offering two
“stories,” but instead the gimmick just offers two comic book halves
rather than one whole.

To offer one positive critique, though, I love how he just drops us
into the world with little explanation or definition of the rules. The
comic’s actually pretty good about that. Liefeld takes the punch first,
ask later approach, and, I think, does it well. Youngblood #1 is kind of an exciting first issue rather than another thesis statement, as we’re used to today.

What about Liefeld outside the comics, though? Do you have any opinions on Extreme Studios or the outside negative affect?

SS: I agree with you. If Liefeld had synthesized the
two issues into one, it would have been a much more satisfying read. He
just couldn’t get those stories to gel. So we get one competent, but
short story, and one extended action scene.

I haven’t read any of the old Extreme Studios titles; this year’s relaunch was my first contact with them. As I said above, Prophet is the best comic coming out each month, Glory is strong and getting better and Bloodstrike
was probably the weakest of the bunch. It fell into the classic Liefeld
problem of restraining the artist. Every action scene was cut short so
that talking heads can lay out some exposition to catch the reader up on
continuity. I dropped that one after its first issue, so it may have
found its bearings.

The relaunch of Youngblood was…I’m not sure if i can call it
“good,” but I don’t really think that matters with Liefeld. It was
certainly interesting, and that’s enough. It operates as a mini-critique
of Liefeld’s legacy, and the internet culture surrounding him.
Youngblood are described (in comic) as “a long running joke by
legitimate super-heroes like Supreme,” which can easily be applied to
Liefeld’s current status in the comics zeitgeist. He’s the butt of every
shoulder pad joke.

The main plot of the story involves a PR agent being hired to
rehabilitate Youngblood’s image, and while in story the team doesn’t
change much from page one,when you compare it to the first issue there’s
a massive change. The initial issue of Youngblood presented a professional U.S. sanctioned strike force. This iteration reads like an issue of Giffen and DeMatteis’ Justice League International.
Slapstick humor mixed with four month old pop culture references and
odd moments of gag humor-esque flirting and overt sexulization. There is
literally a cloud of hearts at one point. It’s a weird comic, but from a
meta context it works. Liefeld was always criticized for his book’s
perceived seriousness, and juvenile content, so what does he do? Get the
writer of one of the most critically acclaimed “artsy” films of the
2000’s (Black Swan) and has him turn Youngblood into this oddball humorous cape comic.

On his negative influence, I don’t really have much to say. People
certainly aped his style and almost killed the industry. Liefeld should
bear some of the blame for that, but not the lion’s share that’s often
attributed to him. You still needed Marvel Comics going bankrupt and
giving Diamond a distribution monopoly, the mass exodus of speculators,
along with a dozen other things that had nothing to do with Liefeld to
cause the industry’s collapse. He defined the style of the decade, so I
guess people associate him with its failure.

Once you start looking at everything that was going on, it’s clear
that Liefeld was just a scapegoat. That’s not to absolve him of any
involvement, he was just a single player in a industry wide failure.

AB: I didn’t hate the new Youngblood,
either. You summed it up pretty well, and I thought mostly the same of
it. Although, I do feel it was an instance where Liefeld’s artwork
actually didn’t add much to the work. It came off as an odd compliment
to the tone the writer was trying to establish. As you said, this Giffen
voice, but it’s met with Liefeld’s extreme aesthetic and creates this
odd sensation of a comic book.

Interesting, for sure.

I haven’t read every release from the new take on Extreme Studios,
but from what I have explored, I do feel this revamp really represents a
lot of what we talked about here. While I feel Liefeld can produce fun,
over the top comic books, his ultimate legacy lands more in his
influence than his actual work. Whether it be the examples of art comics
you brought to light or now these once lost concepts being utilized by
the likes of Brandon Graham and Ross Campbell, it seems that Liefeld has
managed to create certain elements that will, potentially, outlast him.

Being an artist, that seems to be the ultimate mission, and I like
that this unlikely character seems to have accomplished that, in a
sense. It’s kind of powerful as well as charming.
I know someone out there has read this and believes we’re both
insane, but I feel at this point it’s hard to deny Liefeld’s place. The
guy at least deserves a chance to be reconsidered.

SS: The idea of re-contextualizing and
re-interpreting a creator’s body of work has always interested me; it’s
really the main point of the critic and criticism. There was an
excellent Inkstuds episode featuring Ben Schwartz, Jeet Heer and Gary
Groth (Americas Best Comics Criticism)
which featured a large segment centered around the discussion of which
creators needed a critical re-evaluation to cement their legacy. There
certainly are a few creators who are undeniably great, but most need
that extra push from an outside source. And that’s where critics come
in.
It seems like a lot of re-contextualization is still coming from the print side of things. The (now) yearly Comics Journal
along with the archive editions many book publishers put out,
specifically Fantagraphics, have kind of cornered the market on this
idea. Even as the net becomes more present, it’s still print that holds
the reigns on “serious” criticism.
This probably stems from the financial structure of websites. When
the newest thing drives site hits, it becomes difficult to justify
talking about the past in any definitive sense (I’ve had three week old
reviews deemed irrelevant). There’s a two week period when a new book
comes out that it can be talked about (and maybe a third when “Best Of”
lists start coming out) before they disappear off the main page and into
the wasteland that is the site archives.
That’s why Tim Callahan
is such an important figure in (web) criticism; he runs one of maybe
three columns that focuses on contextualizing older works on a regular
basis (Matt Seneca’s Robot 6 column and Jog’s Comics of the Week essay
being the only other ones to my knowledge), and on the mediums biggest
site to boot. It was Tim who brought Liefeld to the forefront of the
comics discussion. I know thats where I became aware of him at least. So
I guess that’s why we’re here.
But really, Liefeld was due for a reevaluation anyways. It has been
over twenty years since he reshaped the medium, and ten years worth of
(as Liefeld has wonderfully named them) Liefeld “Haters” being taken at
their word. And no one at the Journal (who I adore in every sense of the
word) is going to tackle Liefeld anytime soon.

So here we are, two brash, young critics trying to redefine an industry legend.

AB: I think “young” is a good way to describe us.
It’s a little off topic, but I tend to agree with your points about online comics criticism (and Tim is the man).

Sites do rely on hot topics to entertain their audiences, but they
also rely heavily on short pieces. The long, in depth piece rarely
exists on a comic book site. Why? I don’t really know, other than most
people probably don’t have the attention span for them, so sites cater
to that, keeping us in a constant ADHD state of channel surfing. Also,
long pieces take a lot more work, and when you have a schedule to keep
to, a big site’s better off living on small blurb articles to keep the
updates constant.
When a good lengthy piece hits though, there’s little better (at least for my unusual enjoyment). Like this Michel Fiffe piece on the one man anthology comic. Best thing I’ve read in a while, and you can just tell he put the time and effort into it.

So, sadly Shawn, what I’m saying is: only three people will read this
conversation we’ve spent the time typing. I hope you won’t kill
yourself.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

“There is a moment of sheer panic when I realize that Paul’s
apartment overlooks the park… and is obviously more expensive than
mine.”

Ben Marra, with the possible exception of Michael Deforge, is the
best artist in alt-comics at the moment. Marra’s work operates both as a
crude 22-page exercise in depicting violence and obscenity and as an
examination of humanity. He’s kind of like an early Williams S.
Burroughs, only with less heroin and more spine breaking. Recently,
Floating World Comics reprinted his adaptation of the film American Psycho as an over sized newspaper for a mere five dollars.

Marra avoids doing a straight adaptation of American Psycho,
instead selecting iconic images from the story and illustrating them
with little to no dialogue. Removing the connective tissue of the
narrative, Marra relies on the readers familiarity with the work (particularly the film), so
that he can use his artwork and the format to explore the psyche of
Bateman, without getting bogged down in the details of the narrative.

Marra renders each image with a razor straight line, creating a sense
of homogeneity and motionlessness in each scene. It’s uncharacteristic
for him – windows are squared, bookcases are straight, characters are
stiff, and the explosions are contained. This creates a uncomfortable
stillness to the book, representative of Bateman’s psychosis. Marra,
though, subverts Bateman’s characteristic narcissism, not through his
art (which acts as a representation of Bateman), but by reproducing the
comic on newsprint. The cheap and flimsy nature of newsprint can
immediately be scene as an attack on the character’s aesthetic values,
and Marra uses it to distort Bateman’s character by exploiting the paper
stock’s shortcomings.

The thinness of newsprint allows images to be superimposed. Visuals
on the back of a page become visible on the front of a page, and vice
versa. This layering effect adds background detail to the image being
viewed, pocking wholes in the illustrations’ perceived perfection as
lines mesh, figures distort and characters begin to move.

This technique
is best illustrated on the cover page where Bateman stands smirking at the
reader, wearing a fitted suite with perfectly kept hair holding a
bloody knife in front of an apartment complex. The cleanness that
Bateman exudes is shattered as the image on the back of the page begins
to bleed onto the cover, adding splashes of blood across Bateman’s face
and the apartment complex he’s exiting, creating the image of a messy
and disoriented killer. Adding these details directly to the primary
image would disrupt the pages “cleanness” and remove Bateman’s
(perceived) control over the book, but by using the paper stock to
create these ghost images Marra is able to create a layered effect that gives
the reader a glimpse into Bateman’s psyche and his loss of control, without being explicit.

The flimsiness of the paper also causes it to become easily damaged. Every
crease and bend creates an added level of distortion to the image;
creating additional cracks in Bateman’s perfect world (comic); warping his vision into
reality, not fantasy. It even arrives folded up like the morning paper from Leave it to Beaver, its delivered as the embodiment of the american dream (like Bateman) and deteriates into the american nightmate that is Patrick Bateman; and maybe once the book is falling apart and torn
to shreds, we may finally understand the full extent of Bateman’s
insanity.